Without him
by Acuna Magnus Bane
Summary: a story of john and Sherlock when the two are seperated for a time. sorry if it sucks im trying to make it better. reviews are welcome im not asking for your kidney.
1. Chapter 1

John was gone. The man he loved was gone and he hadn't even gotten a chance to tell him that. John was gone; He'd never hear that voice again. 'You need to eat.' 'There's a head in the ice box' 'Come help me with the shopping' 'I know your bored.' 'Stop shooting the wall.' He would never hear that voice again. He felt his heart tug again that the man was gone and he would never see him again. He pulled John's favorite jumpr closer to him and breathed in the scent. Sherlock curled up around it. His chest hurt like he had never felt. Sherlock sank deeper into what was becoming depression. Nothing mattered anymore. The head in the fridge was useless unless John made a fuss about it. The eyes in the microwave meant nothing if John wasn't wondering why they were there.

To Sherlock the room was dim. The atmostshere was gone. It didn't smell the same. John was gone from everything. Sherlock looked at the chair John would usually sit in. He'd would never see that face or smile again. Now time was going to drag on forever without to ligthen up and make it bareable.

~.o0o.~

Mycroft stood in DI Gregory Lestrade's office. "How is he?" Mycroft asked. "Just let the man go back to him before something's really happens to him." Gregory said. Mycroft stared at the man. It was his doing that John was not home in his flat with Sherlock.

John was perfectly safe in a cottage watched by his men in Norway. He had taken the man to get Sherlock to take down a network of some sort. It was one that dealt with many things. Drugs, money, illegal trading. Mycroft needed Sherlock to do this but his brother wasn't going to. The only way it could be done right was if he took away the one things making Sherlock quit the case. John.

After nearly losing him in a fire Sherlock wanted nothing to do with the case Mycroft be damned. Mycroft left the man's office to pay a visit to his brother. For the last four months he had barely left the place. He had grown thinner and looked breakable. Mrs. Hudson did all she could for the man. Forcing him to eat when he wasn't running around rounding up the men who had killed John. Mrs. Hudson had felt a great heartache at the lose of one of her boys. They were like sons to her. Sherlock may have been the worst tenant in London but he was her tenant. She could only hope he would move on soon before something really happened.

Mycroft came up the stairs and into the living room. He remembered the first time he entered baker street after he had John kidnapped. The aparment was a complete mess. books no longer on the shelves glass broken about the floor and sherlock on the couch knees drawn up and arms wrapped around them.

Sherlock lay in a pile on the couch. He had dark circles under his eyes and he was paler then what he had once been. Four months had done this to him. He didn't have the same gleam to gray eyes anymore. They just started off into space as he wasted away on the couch. His heart ached for his brother. He would never do this if it was not for a good cause. "Sherlock you have to eat something. Your doing yourself no good if you try to catch criminals nearly half dead." he said.

Sherlock continued to stare at him. Four months without his blogger. His best friend. The only person who could truly stand to be around him despite the experiments, shooting, running, chasing. Everything. His chest still ached and felt tight. He had began replying every good momenty he and John had shared. The laughs, mishaps and bad chinese resturants they had been to together. "He wouldn't want you to sit here wasting away Sherlock." Mycroft said. Sherlock took a small bite of the toast Mycroft had been holding to him.

"It's not going to bring him back." Sherlock finally said after moments of silence. "But it will bring the rest to justice who have destroyed many families and lives Sherlock. John may be gone but you can help others." Mycroft told him. Sherlock got up from where he had been lying on the couch. His thin limbs looked ganglier then ever. Mycroft winced as his brother turned his back he could see the knots of Sherlock's spine more now then ever. His shoulder blades stuck out more.

Mycroft noticed a sweater on the couch and realized he had seen it before it. John wore it often. It was John's favorite and apparently Sherlock's as well. "There are only four left Sherlock. Fin them and bring them down. Leave them alive this time." Mycroft said. Sherlock didn't say anything but Mycroft knew he heard him. He left. Once in the car again he sighed. "Let this be over soon."

~.o0o.~

John looked out the window. It was raining again. It had been all week. "Soon enough you'll be out of here." one of the men told him. He wanted nothing more then to see London again. What did everyone thing happened to him? What did Sherlock think happened to him? Sherlock may have been strange. He missed the man's mannerisms, and wit. The way he could deduce a crime scene in a matter of seconds. He missed the man's smile and the twinkle in his eyes when the wheels in his head were turning and working out the scenes. Five and a half months he had been gone.

~.o0o.~

"They're in a warehouse near the Thames." The voice told him. The line went dead and that was it. Lestrade himself went out to the warehouse with two units where he found the last four men, the leaders, gagged and bound. He called Mycroft. "He's given us the men now let John go." Lestrade all but growled into the phone. The men were taken into custody.

Sherlock wandered around aimlessly. It was cold but he didn't care. The rain poured down so hard you couldn't see three feet in front of you. He knew he was soaked to the bone. If he was numb he wouldn't have felt it because he had already been numb for weeks. Everything was so dull now. John wasn't there to brighten his day and it didn't matter anymore. He couldn't even be counted as the cold hearted calculating machine he had once been but now just a hollow shell.

John rushed into 221b Baker street and ran up the stairs. Seventeen stairs all there. He rushed into the flat living room but found it empty. Sherlock wasn't there. It felt colder. There was a thin layer of dust on everything. Mrs. Hudson must have been up a few times but hadn't been up much. He favorite sweater was on the couch. The blanket smelled like Sherlock. John sat down and pulled the blanket into his lap. What had happened to Sherlock while he was being held captive. The front door slammed shut and footsteps started up the stairs. They were tired and wet. John looked toward the door and saw Sherlock Holmes. Or rather the man who had once been Sherlock Holmes.

"Sherlock!" Sherlock looked in disbelief. "What have you done to yourself?" John came over to him and shook his head. "John?" When Sherlock felt the warm hand on his arm did he know the person in front of him was real. "John." Sherlock enveloped the man in a hug and didn't let go. "Sherlock your freezing and dripping wet. Come on." John removed his arms from the man and began to pull him into the bathroom. "Your alive. You came back." Sherlock said.

John turned the water on and started to feel the tube. "I'm sorry I didn't come back sooner Sherlock." he said. Sherlock latched onto him again. "Don't leave again please." The cold was getting to him now. His teeth were chattering. John shook his head and began to stripe the man from what had now become his second skin. When he worked off the shirt even with Sherlock's arms now wrapped around him for warmth he could see how thin he was. The ribs were more visible the skin was paler.

"First we're going to get you warmed up then get you into bed before you catch a cold."

Sherlock sat huddled up and freezing in the tube even with the water. "Cold still." John saw the man visibly shudder. "Stay here I'll be right back I promise." John left the man in the tube to go into his bedroom. Nothing had changed. Everything was as he had left it. He dug in his closet for the small space heater he kept on really cold winter nights and pulled out the heating blanket. Once they were on he closed the door to let the heat collect.

He left for Sherlock room to find underwear and something for him to sleep in. He finally hit pay dirt with flannel pajamas. Quickly rushing down stairs he threw the articles of clothing on the bed in his room and ran back to the bathroom. Holmes was as he had left him. Sherlock's eyes visibly brightened at his return. The detective had truly missed him. "Alright Sherlock come on. I have the heater and blanket ready and waiting. Come on." John turned the water off and helped Holmes to his now warm room and quickly began to start drying him off.

"Here get dressed." he handed over the under and pajamas to Sherlock while he went to change into his own night wear. By the time he turned around again Sherlock was trying to do up the buttons of his shirt but couldn't. His shaking hands wouldn't steady enough. "Here." John did up the buttons. "Climb in I'll be right back." John dashed out of the room while Sherlock climbed under the duvet and heated blanket. John was back. He was really home again. Sherlock felt a chill run through him again.

John came back with a glass of water and whatever medicine he might need to give Sherlock should he catch a fever. John came back to find Sherlock curled under the covers. "Sherlock you have to straighten out so I can get in the bed." he pulled the covers back. Sherlock started at him. "You've really come back home." his friend said. John climbed into the bed forcing Sherlock to move over. The minute he was settled Sherlock pulled him into an embrace.

Gray eyes stared at him. "I'm glad your back. It didn't feel right without you around. You seem to make everything better."

"I know Sherlock I missed you too. But go to sleep." he said settling in. It took a while but the man finally fell asleep. The blanket was soon turned off but the heater stayed on. John settled into sleep with Sherlock in his arms. Happy and content and able to sleep the way he should have been sleeping the last five months, two weeks, and four days. He heard Sherlock sigh in his sleep and tighten his grab around the man.

He felt something nudge him in his sleep. He woke only to realize that he a Sherlock were still wrapped around each other. It felt right. "John?" "Yes Sherlock?" he looked down to the dark curls. "I love you John. I do and when you went away Nothing felt the same. You weren't yelling at me, or telling me to sleep, trying to make me eat. Nothing's the same without you. I love you and I'm saying it now while I have the chance."

John's heart would sing if he wasn't worried about how warm the man was. "I love you too Sherlock but right now you have a fever and we need to bring it down." John gave him two pills and a drink of water. Sherlock smiled for the first time in months. "John loves me." he drifted back off to sleep.

"And Sherlock loves me." he smiled as he pulled the man closer. They slept peacefully though the night and well into the day. Mrs. Hudson had come up late that night to check on Sherlock. She was relived to find him fast asleep in John's bed. With the good doctor curled around him to. John was back. She couldn't believe her old eyes. The man was back and everything would be right again. Her boys were back and just the way they should have been. Together as a couple.

Sherlock woke again with a fever and John was there to doctor him and comfort him. Sherlock mumbled something in his sleep. "Never quiet with you around." John held the man closer and snuggled in deeper.

John had to get up. He had things to do. Like eat and pee. He was still human. "Now what to feed Sherlock?" Was the question. "Start slow, toast." John had eggs. There were no body parts in the kitchen. No fingers in jars of any kind, no eyes in the microwave. John put his plate in the sink and makes Sherlock the toast and some tea just the way he like it.

Sherlock was sleep still or feigning sleep he didn't know which one. "Sherlock I need you to wake up and eat." John pulled the cover back from the curled up form. Sherlock rolled the other way and curled deeper. "Sherlock don't make this any harder. You're lucky you're not dead. You've lost far to much weight now please just eat half of it if you can." Still nothing. "Do it for me please." Sherlock sat up with John's help and ate.

They lay down again wrapped in each other's arms. John placed a kiss to Sherlock lips. "I love you still." the brown haired man smiled. "Good cause I'm not going anywhere for a very long time." They locked lips again and time letting their tongue battle for dominance. "I love you Sherlock Holmes." John whispered into the neck before nipping at it. "Then I love you John Watson." They were a couple before they were even a couple. They just didn't know it then. Now they do they had suffered enough in the last few months for a life tile and wouldn't want to repeat it.

Sherlock knew with out John he wouldn't have that bit of calm in his mind when he was with the man. The constant nagging from him that he could stand. With out him he found himself rather lost. He looked forward to the next few years and smiled.

John knew without the detective there was no adventure in his life. There was no near death moments and danger. That he had no one to nag when the man wasn't He looked forward to the next few years ahead of them. John kissed his forehead before falling asleep.

A/N: that most likely sucked arse. reveiw it please im not asking for your kidneys.


	2. Chapter 2

Three months, two weeks, five days, eighteen hours, thirty minutes. That's how long they'd been together. Since John came back. John managed to get Sherlock back to as normal as Sherlock could be. He no longer looked like he would topple over at any minute. He was thin still but it was the normal Sherlock thin. His eyes had life to them again. They had a slight twinkle to them.

For that first month after they had started getting back out and solving cases again Sherlock always seemed to put himself between John and everyone else. Not letting anyone get to close. It took John a while to convince him that nothing would happen to him. That he would be fine. But he knew that whenever Sherlock did this it was because the man loved him so. The thought of possibly losing him again was something he never wanted to feel again.

Sherlock did things that he knew would make John happy. Like sleeping and eating more. Trying to do less destructive things and buy a smaller fridge to put his body parts in. they'd come to a few agreements. No sex on a case, the usual no food. But when they had their free time or when either had been to busy that they had barely seen each other doors were locked and phones turned off.

It was just them even if for a single day. Wrapped in each other's arms. Breathing each other's scents, sharing kisses and sweet nothings.

Everyone saw the change in the relationship. Mrs. Hudson noticed how they were always curled up on the couch together watching telly when the whether was bad outside. John and Sherlock had each other again. She sometimes thought of how Sherlock survived without John. And what would John be doing now if it wasn't for Sherlock and his near constat cases for the adventure. The thrill of the chase.

Lestrade saw it as well. He knew when he saw John glare at Anderson the first they had come back to solving cases when he called Sherlock a freak. Sherlock didn't need someone to defend him but John did anyway. He saw how the two looked at each other.

Everyone did. Mycroft was happy to see his brother as healthy as he could be when the doctor was around. His weight was back up again. He was solving cases again and being normal. (As normal as Sherlock could truly be.) Sherlock was happy. John was happy. They were happy together.


End file.
